Chicken Soup
by AutonomicRogue
Summary: Neighbors AU Prompt from cxptains-imagines on Tumblr. "I heard constant coughing in your apartment it sounded like you were choking so I panicked and kicked down your door to come save you. Wait, you're not choking and just have a bad cold? Oh my god I'M sO SORrY. I'LL PAY FOR THE DOOR. I'LL ALSO MAKE YOU SOME SOUP."


Neighbors AU Prompt from cxptains-imagines on Tumblr.

"I heard constant coughing in your apartment it sounded like you were choking so I panicked and kicked down your door to come save you. Wait, you're not choking and just have a bad cold? Oh my god I'M sO SORrY. I'LL PAY FOR THE DOOR. I'LL ALSO MAKE YOU SOME SOUP."

* * *

Walking up to the door of his apartment, Steve Rogers sighed as he unlocked it. He'd moved back to Brooklyn 8 months ago to work at the local art gallery and teach some youth art classes, but he had yet to make very many friends. He had his friend Sam, one of the art curators that worked in the same gallery as him, but they were on slightly different schedules which made it hard to hang out outside of work. Through Sam he had met Tony Stark, who was one of the largest names in technology and one of the art gallery's biggest donors, but he wouldn't necessarily say that they were best buddies. Steve also had his childhood best friend Bucky, but Bucky recently took a job in Long Island at a law firm there, so he only came back to Brooklyn every other weekend or so. It had been a little less frequent lately because he'd met this girl named Wanda there that he was em _crazy/em_ about, so he'd been staying to spend more time with her. Steve didn't mind all that much, he just really wanted someone that he could call up in the middle of the day to go with him to central park or go to his favorite diner with.

Steve opened up the door to his apartment, throwing the keys on the little table by the door. As he entered the apartment, he heard someone in the apartment next to him cough really loudly. The walls in the apartment building he was living in were pretty thin, so he could always hear everything that his neighbors were doing, and that means em _everything/em._ Steve frowned at the sound but continued further into his apartment. He'd just gotten the door shut and began taking off his shoes when he heard the sound again, this time it lasted longer and sounded more strained. Steve furrowed his brows together in concern. Was this person okay? He didn't really know his neighbors all that well, which again, played into his whole friend dilemma, but by the time he got home for the day, he just didn't feel like socializing all that much. The only person that he really knew was Mrs. Ferguson and her son who lived on the other side of the building and that was because Mrs. Ferguson's son sometimes came to the art classes that Steve taught.

He was contemplating knocking on the door to ask the person if they were okay when he heard louder, more urgent coughing coming from next door. He waited a few seconds to see if it would stop, but when it didn't he began to fear the worst. Throwing his door open (and hardly remembering to shut it), he ran over to the other apartment in a frenzy to make sure the person was okay.

"HEY!" He yelled as he banged on the door, "ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE? DO YOU NEED HELP? ARE YOU CHOKING?" When they didn't answer, and the coughing became wheezy and strained, Steve decided that he had to take matters into his own hands. "DON'T WORRY, I CAN HELP YOU! I KNOW CPR, I'M COMING IN!" He yelled as he began to throw his body against the door, trying to break it open. He stepped back and kicked as hard as he could just above the door knob and it finally gave, breaking under the force. Steve ran into the apartment, expecting to see someone laying on the floor desperately trying to breathe, but everywhere he looked, he didn't see anyone. Just as he was beginning to walk down the hall, a woman came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a giant black robe, tissues in hand, nose as red as the hair on her head, and coughing just as desperately as he had heard from his own apartment. She was looking down at the ground when she came out and nearly ran into him as she entered the living room.

"AHHH!" She screamed. He nearly screamed back because the sound took him by surprise. He lifted his hands to her to try to calm her down.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," He said backtracking closer to the broken door. She looked further down the hallway to see her door splintered and barely hanging on by its hinges. Her mouth dropped open as she looked at him shocked.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DOOR? ARE YOU CRA-." She was cut off by another coughing fit, still giving him a dirty look the entire time.

Steve lifted his hand to his head and ran it through his hair. He exhaled sharply, as he turned bright red, the situation finally making sense to him.

"You just have a cold," He began to laugh, "I'm so sorry. Oh my God, you just have a cold." The mixture of embarrassment and hilarity of the situation setting in.

The woman looked at him, eyebrow raised, questioningly.

"I'm calling the cops," she said before turning and walking toward the couch to grab her phone.

"Wait, wait, please wait, let me explain," Steve said, the amusement leaving his voice almost immediately.

The woman squinted her eyes at him, phone in hand ready to make the call. Steve wasn't sure why she didn't but assumed that her curiosity got the better of her.

"You have one minute," she replied, sitting down on the couch.

"Well, you see, I'm Steve, I'm your next-door neighbor. I, uh, well, I heard constant coughing coming from your apartment and it sounded like you were choking, so I kind of – panicked and kicked down your door to come and save you. Only, you weren't choking, you just have a bad cold." Steve rambled on as she listened intently, taking in what he was saying. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I really thought that you were dying. I'll definitely pay for the door, in fact, right now, I'm going to leave to go and make you some soup. I'm so sorry. Do you like chicken noodle? Of course you like chicken noodle, everyone likes chicken noodle, I'm going to go make you some chicken nood-."

Steve was headed for the door, still rambling when he was cut off by giggling coming from the couch. He stopped and turned around to see the woman laughing increasingly harder. Steve began to laugh too, the red returning to his face. He looked down at his feet, and the woman got up from the couch and began walking toward him. Her giggles had turned into coughs, but she was clearly still amused.

"You thought that I was dying?" She said, once the laughter had subsided.

"Well, yeah," Steve replied sheepishly.

"So, your first instinct was to kick down my door?" She challenged, a giggle following the end of her sentence.

"I mean, to be fair, I was banging on it and asking you if you were okay, but you didn't answer," Steve shot back.

"I was in the bathroom," She laughed. "I thought it was the crazy boyfriend of that girl down the hall. I didn't realize it was em _my_ /em crazy neighbor."

"Hey," Steve replied, "A crazy neighbor that wanted to make sure you didn't die." He gave her a soft smile and surprisingly, she returned it.

"Well then, you did say that there was a new door and some chicken and noodle soup in this for me, so if you don't mind, I think I'll take you up on that offer." She winked at him as she returned to her spot on the couch.

"Definitely not, it's the least I could do," Steve said as he turned to head for the door, "I'll be back with it in about an hour, I've got to go pick up the stuff and make it, then I'll drop it by."

"Or," she responded, making Steve stop in his tracks, "you could just cook here. I already have the stuff, and you're already here."

Steve turned to face her, "are you sure about that?" He asked.

"Why not? I mean, you've already busted down my door, I might as well let you use my kitchen," she gave him a sly smile.

"Well, for starters, I don't even know your name."

"Natasha, Natasha Romanoff," she responded. "It's nice to meet you Steve-uh, I don't think I caught your last name?"

"Rogers," he added, moving into the kitchen.

"Well Rogers, you better make enough soup for two because I think I'd like to get to know you. That is, if you like chicken noodle soup, which as you already pointed out, everyone likes chicken noodle soup," she said, propping herself up on her knees to peer over the back of the couch at him.

"As you wish, Natasha," Steve replied, a wide grin on his face. She smiled back at him, red nose and all, and he was sure that the butterflies that had found their way into his stomach were going to take up permanent residence there.


End file.
